Chapter 2: Gwen Returns

It had been 3 weeks since that day at Eleanor’s house in the summer of 1968, but I, Gwen, couldn’t shake what happened from my mind. I can still recall the events of that day so vividly. I’d been asked to house-sit for Eleanor while she was out on her midwifery rounds, to wait for a package from another midwife.

Sure enough, late that afternoon, a black leather midwife case had arrived, left by a hurried colleague. I brought it inside, setting it on the coffee table, but curiosity overwhelmed me. I couldn’t contain myself and had to look inside. Kneeling beside it, I unlatched the case, revealing a black rubber anesthesia mask and a small nitrous oxide canister attached.

My fingers had trembled as I lifted the mask, pressing it to my face, the rubber cool against my skin. I twisted the valve, inhaling deeply, the warm, dizzying rush of gas flooding my senses, my pulse racing with a forbidden thrill. I had fell back onto the carpet, legs sprawled, lost in the haze. I was sprawled on the floor, when I looked up to see Eleanor’s polished black shoes and shiny black stockings, encasing her shapely legs towering over me.

I can still recall her sultry smile as she looked down at me. “My, my, what have we here a young girl who needs help with birthing, it seems. Before I could stammer an excuse, or take the mask off she had forced me to inhale more gas. As I was in a daze she had said “Now you just wait a moment my dear I have something special you can drink which will help that naughty peeking attitude.” She had than returned a moment later, with a glass of lemon flavored sedative drink in hand. She knelt again, took the mask off my face, and tilted my chin up with one hand, pressing the glass to my lips. “Drink this love,” she insisted, her tone firm as I sputtered and swallowed under her grip, the liquid burning down my throat.

Woozy and compliant, I’d been half led, half-dragged to what I would learned was Eleanor’s medical exam/ birthing room. That is where she’d worked over my vagina, anus and body with medical tools and hands that left me trembling and marked.

Since that day, I’d spent very restless nights replaying the feel of the gas’s pull, the tight seal of the rubber mask, the cold steel of the speculum stretching me open, and Eleanor’s latex cover hands exploring my body. Alone in my room, I’d slide my fingers between my thighs, pictured Eleanors glossy black latex delivery gloves parting my vagina’s lips, teasing my clit, and than plunging deep into my tunnel, their rubber slick against my aroused bits.

I’d rub clit each night, hearing Eleanor’s voice “Ready for delivery ?” until I could feel, my body shuddering as I came, screaming into my pillow breathless and aching my sheets soaked in my juices. My shaved mound had slowly grown back to a light fluff, and every touch sent me imagining being strapped to Eleanors birthing chair again. I was beginning to think about shaving myself just to remember how

my mound felt.

Finally one overcast afternoon in late July, I couldn’t resist anymore, and stood again outside Eleanor’s door, my sweater was damp with nervous sweat, my jeans chafing my legs. I could feel my pulse hammering in my chest as I knocked quietly on the door.

Eleanor answered, in her alluring navy blue midwife uniform long-sleeved, crisp, and clinging to her frame, the silver buckle of her belt gleaming. Her black stockings hugged her shapely legs, the sheen catching my eye as she shifted.

Her eyes widened with surprise, as she saw me standing there. “My goodness, Gwen, you’re back! I honestly was not sure I would ever see you again after I caught you sprawled in my living room last time, wth my midwife’s anesthesia mask glued to your face, breathing the gas like a little minx. I gave you a thorough going over, didn’t I?

Shaved your vagina, stretched you wide with a speculum, even flushed you out with an enema, poked and prodded every inch of you till you were trembling. I thought you’d be too mortified to ever show your face again. But your back so, poppet? Are you back for another exam after all that?”

I shifted nervously looking down at my sneakers. My throat felt tight, as I twisting the hem of my sweater, a bright red flush creeping up my neck at the memory how I’d lain there, the rubber mask, the gas swirling through me, Eleanor’s silhouette above me, and the invasive hours that followed.

I took a breath and tried to speak “I… I can’t stop thinking about what you did,” I confessed, my voice low. “Everything you did the birthing chair, how it felt. It’s been 3 weeks, and I keep imagining it. I….want…..I mean would you please examine me again, Eleanor?”

Her face showed genuine surprise but then softened into, a thrilled smile, her eyes glinting with pleasure as she tilted her head, studying me. “Ohh, you truly

want to be my patient again, do you, allow me to practice more medical procedures a midwife needs to know, and you’ll be my willing patient?” she said, her tone warm. “You enjoyed your exam and me working you over, didn’t you? I saw how you aroused it made you those flushed cheeks, that dazed look when I peeled the anesthesia mask off you. How wet and puff your vagina got.

“Hmmm I can tell you’ve been touching yourself thinking about it, and me, haven’t you, Gwen? I’m surprised, truly what got you hooked? Was it the gas, the latex gloves, or me strapping you down on my chair and having my way with your body ? Tell me, love, because I could do so much more pump your nipples till they ache, pump your vagina full of warm oil with a syringe and plug it tight with a rubber stopper, stretch your anus with a double-headed dilator, or maybe pry your vagina open and see if I can stretch you out enough to get a baby out of you, how’s that sound, hmm?”

I blushed harder, my face burning at the vivid, kinky images of me in the birthing chair, spread wide, anal dilators, and now the unsettling, arousing thought of her fisting my vagina my breath catching as I squirmed under her gaze, a confusing heat pooling low in my belly and between my

legs. “I…I want all of it,” I stammered, barely above a whisper. “It was all so intense…..and……arousing…….I’ve never felt anything like it. I need to experience it again.”

Eleanor chuckled, a low happy sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Well, how can I refuse such an eager young patient? I’d be delighted to oblige let’s make it extra special this time, shall we? A proper treat for my curious girl who wants to experience more

of my midwife touch. Come on in, love I’ve been half-hoping you’d turn up again and take me up on another exam.”

She stepped aside, gesturing to me in with a playful tilt of her head. I took a breath and walked inside. Once in she locked the door and led me down the hall, her shoes clicking, and opened the bedroom door, pausing at the threshold. “Take a look, Gwen,” she said, pride lacing her voice. “I’ve spruced things up since your last exam made it a proper little birthing theatre, now.

Have a look the chair? Brand new, all modern perfect for securing a little minx like you. Walls and floor are all sterile as a maternity ward now. What do you think?”

I stepped inside, eyes widening. “It’s…more real,” I said, my voice shaky.

Eleanor grinned, leaning close. “Oh, it’s real, all right. Got everything to handle your lower area in style, and surgical enough for a midwife like me to perform many wonderful procedures.”

“Hmmmm maybe if you enjoy this time next I’ll keep you overnight my little cutie strap you down, let you simmer under my care? My own private patient, tended to by her very own personal nurse Eleanor. Do you fancy that, Gwen?”

I swallowed hard, cheeks burning. “I… maybe,” I stammered, half laughing. “Would it be like before?”

“Ohhh much better,” she teased, eyes glinting. “I’d have you all night picture it, Gwen, a full night under your loving midwife’s tender care. First, I’d get you on the hospital bed, legs up in the stirrups, ankles strapped tight, and those weighted cuffs holding your wrists down. I’d roll up your sleeve, swab your arm with that sharp antiseptic sting, and run an IV line hook you up to a drip with scopolamine for a twilight sleep, keeping you drifting in and out, just aware enough to feel me working as I start you off light. I’d shave you smooth every inch of your vagina and anus, the razor gliding over your mons and labia, teasing with slow strokes.

Then I would rub cold antiseptic deep into your skin, making you shiver under that hazy fog. I’d slip in a rectal thermometer, nestle it deep in your anus, leave it there a bit longer than needed to watch you squirm while I note your temp. Next, I’d give you a proper advanced enema set up a dual nozzle rig, one thick tip for your rectum, another slimmer one sliding into your sigmoid colon, both inflatable to lock in tight.

I’d start with a hot soapy flush, pumping it slow through both nozzles, your belly swelling as the heat churns deep, make hold it for forty minutes while you cramp and writhe, then drain it out and switch to a cold glycerin mix, the chill shocking your insides as it floods you again, twisting your bowels for another half hour till you’re begging me for releases in your drugged fog.

After that, I’d slide a retention catheter into your urethra, inflate the balloon, and let your bladder drip into a bag all night, that steady pressure keeping you on edge. When you’re prepped and drowsy, I’d switch you to the serious stuff fit a gas mask over your face again, pump a mix of nitrous and ether through it, sending you deep under for a small surgery.

Set it up just like a proper operating room drape you in sterile green cloths, folding them so only your aroused vagina would exposed, a neat little window framed by the green fabric, framed by a mobile surgical light, its bright beam shining down on your waiting, vagina, exposing every fold glistening under the lights glare.

I would dress for the theatre: full-length surgical gown, tight over my midwife uniform, I would wear a tight rubber surgical cap pulled snug over my hair, and a green rubber face mask with elastic straps sealing over my mouth and nose, and lovely long elbow-length surgical gloves, their sheen catching the surgical spotlight as I loom over you.

Once I was fully ready, I’d start the real work a colpotomy, open you up wide and slicing your vaginal wall with a scalpel from the cabinet, peeling it back to inspect your cute uterus, poking around with my surgical gloved fingers before stitching you up with silk thread.

Hmmm ohh but maybe you would like me to lube up with my long gloves and fist your vagina properly easing my hand in, stretching you past your limits, whispering how perfect you are as you tremble and orgasm drenching my gloved hands in your juices.

How’s that sound, poppet are you ready to be my patient, to let me care for you all night long?” She leaned in, her hand resting gently on my lower back, guiding me forward with an intimate nudge that sent a shiver through me, her words igniting a heat deep in my core.

As she said the room had changed since last time and was a more clinical space now. Its walls painted a sterile white, the floor tiled in fresh gleaming linoleum reflecting the overhead lights. The bed was a hospital model with a sturdy steel frame, a thick rubber mattress pad covered by taut white sheets, adjustable side rails with leather straps, and a set of retractable gynecological stirrups bolted to the foot, their padded rests angled outward with locking hinges for precise positioning. Beside it stood an anaesthesia machine a squat, polished steel unit with dual pressure gauges, a rubber bellows pump, and a thick, coiled black tube leading to a heavy-duty rubber mask, its deep green surface scuffed but gleaming, the cushioned rim thick and reinforced with a metal clasp, the scent of rubber faint but potent. The bed was flanked by an IV stand with a saline bag hanging on hook.

One glass cabinet held a metal tray with a scalpel featuring a curved blade, a suture kit with silk thread and a curved needle.

A second cabinet was devoted to sedation gear: a row of rubber gas masks in varying sizes (one black, one green, one clear with a red rim), a bottle of liquid ether with a dropper cap, a vial of chloroform with a cork stopper, a small canister of nitrous oxide with a valve, and a folded stack of gauze pads for manual dosing.

A third glass cabinet was dedicated to anal items: a red rubber enema bag with a long, coiled tube, a set of black rubber nozzles (one thick with a ribbed tip, one slim with an inflatable bulb), a row of graduated steel anal dilators with smooth, rounded ends, a stack of cloth diapers with safety pins, a box of glycerin suppositories in wax paper, a pair of translucent rubber pants with elastic waistbands, a rubber-tipped syringe for lubricant, and a narrow rectal speculum with a screw mechanism, all gleaming under the cabinet’s light.

A rack of clothing hung on pegs: a glossy black latex apron with long ties, a rubber surgical cap, a green cotton gown with drawstrings, a full-length surgical gown with a high collar, a set of elbow-length surgical gloves in a sterile packet, and three surgical face masks dangling from separate pegs one white cotton with ties, one green rubber with elastic straps, and one blue fabric with a metal nose clip.

The birthing chair was a sleek model with a steel frame, its seat and back padded in green vinyl, adjustable via a foot pedal, with padded leather cuffs on the armrests and leg supports, the latter curving to spread thighs wide with a mechanical click.

An enamel-lined tray was bolted beneath, pristine. Nearby stood more restraints, a set of padded ankle hobbles with chain links, a rubber bite guard with straps, a pair of weighted wrist cuffs with lead inserts and locking clasps, and a padded leather blindfold with adjustable straps to cover a patient’s eyes, stacked on a shelf.

A rolling cart sat empty beside the birthing chair, the green sterile cloth on top bare for now, and the leather anaesthetic case rested on a small side table.

“Strip down for me my sweet,” Eleanor said briskly, moving to the cart as she did I hesitated. Eleanor turned watching me and smiled coyly “Come on, Gwen, everything off with your sweater, jeans, panties and bra. Let’s not dawdle, hmm?”

She glanced at me with a teasing smile, her hands already busy pulling out equipment: the broad steel speculum clinked onto the mobile surgical tray, followed by a red catheter with its drainage bag. “Don’t be shy now, Gwen I’ve seen you naked before, haven’t I?

“Remember when I caught you with the anesthesia mask last time I drugged you. Then I carried you in no need to hesitate.”

I took a breath and started pulling off my sweater, the wool sticking to my damp skin, blushing as I watched Eleanor added the enema tube with an inflatable nozzle to the tray. “That’s it, poppet keep going jeans next,” she cooed, setting down a pair of forceps, their steel glinting. “You’re going to look so lovely all bare for me again ready for me to explore you?”

I shimmied out of my jeans and underwear, the cool air prickling my skin as she placed the rectal thermometer and a vial of lubricant on the tray, her eyes flicking to me with a grin. “Good girl nothing to hide now, is there? Let’s get you sorted.” She handed me a thin cotton gown, its hem barely reaching mid-thigh. I slipped it on, the rough weave chafing as I tied it. “Into the chair, my love,” she directed, guiding me to the birthing chair.

The vinyl squeaked as I sat, and I nervously watched Eleanor pressed the foot pedal, tilting the seat back. She helped place my legs in each stirrup then adjusted the leg supports, spreading my thighs wide with a whirr, the leather cuffs clicking as she secured my ankles. “Arms too,” she added, buckling the leather straps around my wrists, pinning them tight. I tugged, the restraints firm, my breathing already getting shallow.

“There we go my little patient is all secured and comfy. I will slipped into a proper medical gown than I will be ready to exam you properly poppet.” Eleanor walked to the clothing rack and pulled on the green surgical gown, tying it at the back, the fabric rustling over her navy uniform, its cuffs peeking out. She reached for her latex delivery gloves the thick, glossy black rubber snapping as they stretched up to her elbows, gleaming under the lights. “You’ve been dreaming about these, haven’t you?” she said, flexing her latex gloved fingers.

Eleanor Internal; Oh, this young thing’s got me tingling already. I can’t wait to play with that yummy vagina of hers, she thought, feeling a faint heat starting between her thighs.

“Let’s see how much your body can take today, my eager practice patient.”

She started with my breasts, her gloved hands cupping one, the rubber cool and slick. “Such tender mammary glands,” she murmured, kneading them firmly, her fingers digging into my areolae. “How’s that feel, Gwen? Sensitive little nipples?” I gasped as she pinched one hard, rolling it until it stiffened fully. “Look at these areolae yours glands are popping out nicely,” she said, her tone clinical yet teasing. “Let’s give them a proper tease, shall we?” She fetched a hand-cranked suction device from the cart, its small rubber cup glistening as she coated it with gel. “This’ll feel divine,” she purred, pressing it over my nipple, cranking it slowly until the suction pulled tight, a sharp, pulsing tug making me moan.

Eleanor Internal; God, she’s gorgeous like this makes me wetter every second, Eleanor thought, her arousal blooming as she repeated the process on the other nipple, both throbbing under the relentless pull.

“There now they are perfectly primed for Eleanor’s care,” she grinned, leaving them suctioned as she moved on.

She moved to the catheter, swapping her gauntlets for green surgical gloves, their latex snapping as they stretched tightly on her hands “Let’s catheterize that urethra,” she said, holding up the red rubber tube from the tray, its flared tip glistening as she applied lubricant. “This’ll keep your bladder in check she said apply lube till it glistened. Now let’s spread that vulva wide, love.” She parted my labia majora with one hand, her gloved fingers cool, and pressed the tip to my urethral meatus. “Little sting now ready?” she asked smiling excitedly as I watched my breathing labours, as she began sliding the catheter’s tip slowly inside, the rubber stretching my urethra as it snaked past the sphincter, a sharp pinch blooming into a dull pressure.

“Feel that gliding up your urethra, Gwen? All the way to the bladder,” she said, guiding it deeper, a faint ache settling inside me.

Eleanor Internal; God her little gasps are driving me wild such a delicious young thing I know I’m going to enjoy this, Eleanor mused, her pulse quickening as she secured the catheter to a drainage bag clipped to the chair, the tube tugging faintly as it began to fill. “There we go no mess from down there,” she said, stroking my thigh. “How’s it feel, poppet? Nice and snug?”

She moved lower, to gaze at my vagina which was already puffy and glistening with arousal under the bright lights. “Seems you have some light hair on your mons,” she said, running her latex gloved fingers over my rough regrowth. “Can’t have that let’s shave this cutie vagina smooth again.

Ready to be my perfect patient?” She fetched a razor, and a bowl of warm soapy water, and a brush, lathering my mons and labia with slow, teasing strokes, the bristles tickling my sensitive skin. “Your growth came in fast maybe we need try something different next time,” she teased as she scraped the blade over my mons, then parting my labia majora to shave the labia minora, the cool metal grazing my folds.

Eleanor Internal; This yummy vagina’s all mine to toy with makes me ache so bad, she thought, her own wetness growing as she wiped me with a rough cloth, her touch lingering. “Feel that, Gwen? All bare now smooth as a baby,” she murmured.

“Such a gorgeous vulva ready to be opened up for labor? How’s it feel to be so open for me?”

“I….I its nice” I whispered as watch Eleanor move to the next part of are exam.

“Hmm lovely now, the enema time,” she said, keeping the green gloves on, she grabbed the enema tube from the tray. “Perfect for cleansing that rectum,” she explained, preparing a large rubber bag with hot water, soap, and glycerin, the mixture steaming and frothing. She attached the thick, ribbed nozzle with its inflatable bulb, coating it with gel until it glistened. “This’ll fill your colon and stay put,” she said, parting my buttocks, her fingers circling my anus, pressing gel into my anal sphincter with slow, teasing strokes. “We need that tight little anus to relax for me, love,” she cooed, sliding the nozzle in, the stretch sharp. “Feel that big tip? Here’s the trick.” She squeezed the bulb, inflating it inside my rectum, a sudden, tight pressure sealing it, making me gasp. “Good girl now comes the water,” she said, releasing the clamp with an audible snap.

The hot, soapy flood rushed into my colon, heavy and churning, cramping my lower abdomen as it swelled, the inflatable nozzle locking it in. “Oh, you’re feeling that, aren’t you?” she said, watching me squirm.

Eleanor Internal; Her wriggling’s got me dripping under my gown. I just love playing with this sweet young thing, she thought, her arousal spiking as she pressed a hand to my bloated belly. “Hmm that is it let’s get that belly nice and big like your 8 months pregnant.”

“You will need to hold it for Fifteen minutes, Gwen. Like prepping for a delivery.”

The pressure inside me was relentless, a deep, rolling ache twisting my bowels, my abdomen bloating as I groaned, sweat beading on my skin. “Eleanor, it’s too much,” I whimpered, my voice strained. “I can’t hold it any…..”

“You can, love,” she interrupted, her hand firm on my thigh. “You’re doing brilliantly look at that distended abdomen, all full and tight. Just a bit longer how’s it feel, all that warmth stretching your colon?” She rubbed my belly, the pressure shifting, intensifying the cramps.

After fifteen agonizing minutes, she deflated the bulb with a hiss, removing the nozzle, to let me voided into the tray with a loud, wet rush, the relief sharp but humiliating as my face burned as she watched my void. She wiped my anus clean, her green gloved fingers lingering. “There we go all clean inside now, poppet. Took that like a trooper how’d it feel holding it so long?”

“Hmmm it….it was hard but I enjoy it” I whispered still feeling embarrassed I was so turned on by everything.

She switched to her black gloves with a snap. “Time to examine that rectum,” she said, picking up a long rectal speculum from the tray, its steel cold as she coated it with lubricant. “This’ll dilate your anal canal nicely are you ready, Gwen?” She slid it in slowly, the metal chilling my sphincter, a slow stretch making me tense. “Feel that cold steel? Relax your anus for me love,” she said, turning the screw to spread me wide, the sensation sharp as she angled the spotlight. “Look at that tight, pink rectal tunnel,” she said, her voice husky. “Let’s take your temperature too, now hold still.”

She grabbed the rectal thermometer from the tray, shaking it down, then coated it with gel. “This’ll feel a bit funny,” she warned, sliding it in alongside the speculum, the thin glass rod slipping deep into my rectum, a cool pressure making me squirm. “Oh, you’re warm in there let’s leave it a while,” she said, holding it for an extra minute, twisting it slightly to tease my insides as I gasped.

Eleanor Internal; My my she’s so responsive makes me throb so hard I can barely stand it, Eleanor thought, her own clit pulsing as she pulled it out to read it. “38.1 perfect,”

she announced, jotting it in a black notebook from her pocket, her gloved hand scribbling. “Got to track my favorite patient’s vitals, don’t I, Gwen!”

She continued to probed me with two thick, gloved fingers, pressing deep into my rectal, curling them slowly to explore every ridge, the pressure intense and lingering. “Oh, you’re clenching that sphincter does it feel good?” I moaned, and she chuckled. “Thought so. Nice and thorough, isn’t it? Let’s stretch you a bit more,” she added, spreading her fingers slightly before easing them out.

Next, your favourite part the vaginal exam. She grabbed the broad speculum from the tray, its blades slick with gel. “Let’s examine that cute vagina and cervix,” she said, parting my labia majora with her gloved fingers, her touch cool against my warm vulva. “Look at these plump lips they are truly gorgeous,” she murmured, sliding the speculum’s tip between my labia, the cold metal pressing against me. “Relax your pelvic floor, love let me inside you,” she encouraged, her voice soothing as she eased it in, the blades gliding past my vaginal walls with a slow, stretching pressure.

“There we go nice and easy, feel it filling you?” She turned the screw slowly, opening the blades bit by bit, my vagina widening, as a deep ache spreading as my were walls stretched taut.

Eleanor Internal; God this yummy vagina’s so perfect makes me drip like mad stretching it, Eleanor thought, her arousal nearing a peak as she opened it fully, exposing my cervix.

“Good girl, Gwen take it for me,” she cooed, her eyes gleaming. “Wonderful your vaginal canal’s so perfect, so open now,” she said, thrilled. “Let’s irrigate it a bit,” she added, grabbing a syringe of warm saline from the cart, injecting it slowly into my vagina, the liquid flooding me, trickling out around the speculum into the tray with a soft drip. “Feel that warmth washing through you? Nice and slick,” she purred, repeating it for effect.

“Time to remove that catheter hold still.” She tugged the rubber tube from the tray, the slow withdrawal pulling at my urethra, a sharp, tugging ache as it slid free, leaving me feeling raw. “There we go nice and free,” she said, setting it aside.

“Look at you, Gwen so sexy, so young, all spread out in my chair,” she purred, her gloved hand on my thigh. “I’m thrilled to have such a gorgeous vagina to play with.” She slipped two fingers into my vagina, curling them against my anterior wall, then brought her thumb to my clitoris, rubbing slow, firm circles over the hood. “Let’s see how your clitoris responds,” she said, her voice eager. “Feel that, love? Nice and slick already.”

Eleanor Internal; God, she’s making me so wet I’m shaking, I love teasing this young thing till she breaks, Eleanor thought, her own clit throbbing under her dress. As she played with my clit hard the pressure built fast, a hot, pulsing wave washing over me while she worked my clit with steady strokes, her fingers slick with my arousal, the rubber squeaking.

“Oh, you’re trembling it’s such a pretty sight,” she murmured, her eyes locked on mine. “Come for me, Gwen let me see how much you love me playing with your sweet little vagina.” My breath hitched, my pelvic muscles tensing as the sensation crested, a sharp, shuddering orgasm ripping through me, as I moaned in final release. “There we go now don’t you feel better now my darling girl,” she cooed, her thumb slowing but prolonging the orgasm as it wracked my body. “So responsive, so perfect I could tease this cute vulva all day.”

She switched to white surgical latex gloves, their snap crisp. “Now a cervical swab,” she said, grabbing the kit and a narrow speculum from the tray. “This’ll tickle your insides still feeling good?” She inserted the smaller speculum, opening it just enough, and slid the swab in, brushing my cervix with a sharp sting. “Nice and healthy,” she said, withdrawing it slowly, her fingers grazing my labia. “Taking this like a champ how’s it feel?” “Hmmm it’s very good” I said breathlessly still recovering from my orgasm

Back in her black latex, she picked up the sounding rods from the tray, selecting a thin one, its steel gleaming with lubricant. “Let’s sound that urethra next,” she said. “This’ll stretch you nicely hold still.” She pressed the tip to my urethra, still tender. “Little burn coming be ready?” she asked, sliding it in slowly, the metal sinking deep, a strange ache spreading. “Feel that, Gwen? Nice and snug,” she said, twisting it before selecting a thicker rod. “Let’s go bigger stay relaxed,” she encouraged, pushing it in, the pressure sharper, my breath hitching.

Eleanor Internal; Her little shudders are divine makes me ache so bad I’m so close, Eleanor thought, her own arousal teetering on the edge as she eased it out.

“Good girl taking it so well,” she purred. She lubed her hand generously. “Time to stretch that vagina,” she said. “I’ll stretch and open you for delivery, like a real birth.” She pressed two fingers into my tunnel, then three, twisting them, the stretch burning. “Feel that, love? Let’s try more,” she said, adding a fourth, then tucking her thumb, pushing deeper, her hand sinking to the knuckles inside my hot wet tunnel. “Oh, you’re tight, but we’ll get there,” she cooed, stroking my thigh.

Eleanor Internal; Stretching this yummy vagina’s got me on fire love this young thing’s helpless moans, I’m so close, she thought, her own wetness soaking through her panties as Gwen whimpered, the fullness overwhelming, her body trembling in the birthing chair.

“Just Imagine you’re delivering a baby relax down there let my hand inside you!” “Hmmm good girl I almost fisted you this time next time will for more,” she said, easing her glistening gloved hand slowly out of my gaping vagina with a smile.

She stood, kissing my cheek. “Thank you for the fun exam, my love,” she said, her voice tender and sultry. “I hope you enjoyed this examination as much as I did?” I nodded weakly, and she stepped to the cart, retrieving the leather midwife’s case. “Let’s get you under properly,” she said, unlatching it with a sharp snap, pulling out the black rubber anesthesia mask, with its inflatable cushion, the red tube dangling. “Recognize this, Gwen? Your little crime and now your reward,” she teased, holding it up, her eyes glinting with excitement.

She pressed it to my face, the rubber sealing tight over my nose and mouth, the cool, slightly stale scent of rubber mixing with a faint metallic tang from the canister.

“Breathe deep, love,” she said, twisting the valve on the canister, a soft hiss filled my ears as the nitrous oxide flowed, its sweetish, chemical edge tingling in my nostrils. “Nice and slow you can feel that rush coming ?” she asked, her voice soothing as a warm, fuzzy wave crept up from my chest, my lips began to tingle, my tongue was growing heavy. “Good girl deeper breaths now,” she urged, adjusting the flow, the gas surging stronger, thick and cloying, flooding my lungs with a syrupy sweetness that dulled my senses, my head lolling as a soft buzzing filled my skull.

“That’s it let it take you Gwen,” she murmured, her voice fading into a distant echo as my vision swam, and the room got dark, tilting sideways until blackness swallowed me whole, my body limp into the chair’s embrace.

Eleanor Internal; She’s so perfect I need to orgasm looking at her like this, Eleanor thought desperately, her arousal cresting as she slipped away.

Eleanor’s Perspective;

Gwen’s body went limp in the birthing chair, the black rubber anesthesia mask clamped tightly over her face, hissing steadily with nitrous oxide. Her legs spread wide in the stirrups, her shaved vulva glistening, aroused and moist, gaping slightly still from my earlier work such a delicious sight that my own vagina clenched with need. Fuck, she’s out cold and all mine, I thought, my restraint shattering. I stumbled to the hospital bed, my hands shaking as I grabbed my delivery gloves from the tray thick, glossy black rubber snapping with a loud snap yanking them on to my elbows, the sheen catching the light. I say on the bed and quickly hiked up my green surgical gown and navy dress, bunching them around my waist, shoving my drenched black lacy panties aside, the fabric sticking to my soaked slit. I spread my legs wide opening my glistening vagina and plunged my latex glove fingers into my shaved vagina two, then three stretching my slick, pulsing walls, the rubber squeaking as I pumped them deep, curling against my throbbing core. My other hand attacked my clit, my glossy gloves rubbing frantic circles over my swollen nub, slick with my juices.

Eleanor Internal; Look at her spread wide, that yummy vagina on display, helpless under my gas, I thought, staring at Gwen’s limp form, her moist labia parted, the mask hissing, her chest rising faintly. My gloves glistened, coated in my thick, creamy wetness, dripping down my wrists as I fingered myself harder, the rubber slippery and hot. God, she’s perfect gonna clamp her tits next time, fill her with oil, stretch her till she screams, I thought, my clit throbbing under the relentless friction. The orgasm slammed into me raw and violent my vagina spasming around my gloved fingers, a flood of hot juices gushing out, soaking the latex gloves and splattering the sheets, my thighs quivering as I gasped, bucking against my hand.

I slumped back on the bed, my legs splayed wide, the surgical gown and dress still bunched around my waist, exposing my black stockinged legs. My lacy panties hung crooked, pushed to one side, revealing my vagina red, swollen and leaking from my frenzy, dripping thick, glistening juices that pooled on the white sheets beneath me, staining them with the aftermath of my earth shattering orgasm.

My latex gloves gleamed, slick with my cum, droplets sliding off the latex onto the mattress as I lay there, chest heaving, content, watching Gwen sleep my new young patient, so vulnerable and perfect in the chair.

Eleanor Internal; Oh, this sexy young thing’s got me dreaming big now, I thought, my mind racing with possibilities that demanded a real surgical operating room and hospital. I’d love to do a laparotomy on her strap her to a steel table in a sterile theatre, slice her abdomen open with a scalpel under ether anesthesia, spread her with retractors, and explore her ovaries and uterus with my gloved hands, stitching her up with catgut while she’s intubated with a rubber airway, her pulse ticking on a monitor.

I could try an electrocautery procedure too hook her to a hospital diathermy machine, burn away bits of her vaginal mucosa with a sizzling probe, the smell of singed tissue filling the OR as I reshape her under heavy sedation. I grinned wickedly, my breath steadying, my dripping gloves resting on my thighs as I gazed at Gwen, plotting her next visit in a world far beyond this makeshift room.

Gwen’s Perspective

I woke on Eleanor’s couch in the living room, my sweater and jeans back on, slightly rumpled, my body and vagina aching. A note was pinned to my chest, and beside me sat a small canvas bag containing a care package: a red rubber enema bag with a coiled tube, a leather case with graduated butt dilators, a packet of glycerin suppositories, several pairs of green surgical gloves still in their sterile wrapper and a bottle of lube.

I fumbled the note open with shaky hands: “Had to go deliver a surprise baby. Please let yourself out. Enjoy the care package practice with the enema, dilators, suppositories, and gloves for next time. I think you should come see me again next week for a follow up exam; we’ll make it a whole long night under my care. – Eleanor M.W”

My nipples throbbed beneath the sweater, my vagina, anus, and urethra tender, stretched. I stumbled home, the bag clutched tight, and that night, stripping off my clothes, I saw my smooth shaven vulva, faint marks from the restraints, and a stretched openness below, Eleanor’s teasing promises and that vivid dream of her in the full surgical smock burning in my mind, leaving me flushed and restless with a tingling sensation between my legs.

Already counting the days till I could receive another exam from my tender loving nurse midwife. In the mean time I would enjoy her care package, and dream about what Eleanor would do to me at the next exam.

End: Chapter 2